To Die Upon A Kiss
by Nerweniel
Summary: Long ago. Minerva McGonagall leaves her father to marry her much older ex-teacher Albus Dumbledore. Then, the troubles start, because of a certain Tom Riddle... Scene 6 pure fluff, but be warned: drama's to come!
1. Scene One: Somewhere In Scotland

To Die Upon A Kiss  
  
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Dramatis Personae  
  
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Othello: Albus Dumbledore   
  
Desdemona: Minerva McGonagall   
  
Brabantio: Marcus McGonagall   
  
Cassio: Filius Flitwick   
  
Iago: Tom Riddle   
  
Roderigo: Bennett Binns   
  
Emilia: Rolanda Hooch   
  
Scene One: Somewhere in Scotland  
  
=========================================  
  
"Listen Riddle- Tomas- I really don't think we should be here…" Bennett Binns muttered.   
  
Tom Riddle rolled his brown eyes and looked at his companion. Bennett was a thin man who walked slightly bent. His grey hairs were thin and he had many wrinkles- he probably looked older than he was. With a stiff gesture, he pulled his cloak tighter around his shivering shoulders.  
  
"Tomas, we'd better go. Come on now, boy." Bennett uncomfortably pushed the matter. He didn't move, though.  
  
Tom turned around and looked at the house they were standing in front of.   
  
"No." he then spoke softly, thoughtfully, but with an undertone of malice.  
  
"No, we are going to do this. "  
  
"Come on, Riddle- Tomas!"   
  
Bennett laid his hand on his former student's arm.   
  
"You cannot do this."  
  
But the young man's dark eyes shone with a strange light.  
  
"Why shouldn't I? Yes, why on earth shouldn't I? We are doing the right thing here, Bennett. He is the one who has done something wrong. Her place is not…"  
  
"I think Minerva herself knows best what her place is or should be, Tomas."  
  
The younger man mockingly smiled.  
  
"Yes, she always has, hasn't she? Little Miss McGonagall- she has always known what was the right thing to do, hasn't she? I wonder what her beloved Daddy will think of this."  
  
With this, he again stared at the large house before him. The old, yet well-kept estate of the McGonagall family. Now only two McGonagall's were left. Marcus, the formidable and mighty father, and his only child, a daughter. Minerva McGonagall. Slender and slim she was, a Scottish beauty with a pale face and slight blushes on her cheeks, surrounded by a waterfall of wavy, black hair. So much like a little fairy, she looked.  
  
But she was not at all like a fairy, this girl.   
  
Icy intelligence, steel hard logic, tough bravery and her father's untouchable stubbornness.  
  
No, Minerva McGonagall certainly wasn't as lovable as she looked like.  
  
Yet she was sweet. Hard, sometimes, cold, often, but in her own way a very sweet person.   
  
Tom Riddle knew that. Tom Riddle knew her.  
  
Yet he balled his fists and banged on the large, stately, dark brown door.   
  
"Hello? Sir Marcus? Sir McGonagall, Sir? Thieves! Thieves!"  
  
Bennett Binns' cheeks turned pale.   
  
"Riddle, have you gone entirely mad now? Quit it, quit it!" he hissed, trying to pull the other man away from the doors.   
  
Yet Tom's calls had already been heard. A large window on the first floor opened, and Marcus McGonagall himself, looking quite furious, stuck out his head.   
  
"My goodness, can you please explain me these terrible summons! The servants are frightened to death." He snorted.  
  
"They appear to think the Third World War has begun. But who are you and what are you doing here?"  
  
Tom quickly bowed.  
  
"Someone, Sir, who has come to warn you. Thieves! Look to your house, your daughter, your bags!"  
  
Bennett saw the man in the window snort.  
  
"My god, if you are another one who thinks he's going to marry my daughter, then you are mistaken! Go away! And what are you yelling about? Thieves? Where? For God's sake, this is Scotland, not the wilderness!"  
  
Tom bowed again and loudly responded  
  
"The thief has already left, Milord! And he has only stolen one thing- one person! Your daughter, Milord!"   
  
"My daughter?"  
  
For a moment, Bennett Binns thought the elderly man was going to explode- his face was now a strange, not entirely healthy-looking kind of red. Yet then, to his great surprise, Marcus McGonagall started laughing.   
  
"My daughter!" the man mockingly chuckled. "My daughter! My daughter, dear Sir, is perfectly safe in her rooms! She hasn't been out of the house since yesterday! So I believe you must be mistaken."  
  
The man stayed polite, yet Bennett realized that he was losing his temper. Perhaps it was his time to say something. After all, Riddle had a point. Her father had to find out one time.  
  
"Excuse me, Sir, but I believe you may be mistaken! Your fair daughter has gone!"   
  
Tom nodded thankfully at the other man, as he added  
  
"And if you have not given her leave, then she has made a gross revolt- or perhaps not, if she has been forced into it…"  
  
But this went a bit too far for Bennett. He nudged the younger man hard.  
  
"Riddle," he hissed, "you're going a bit too far here! You know very well that Minerva…"  
  
But Tom Riddle totally ignored his companion  
  
"Perhaps she is under the Imperius Curse? Then, of course…"  
  
"But my daughter HAS NOT LEFT THE HOUSE!" Marcus McGonagall now yelled.   
  
"Oh, wait…"  
  
His head disappeared, but less than two minutes later, he was there again.  
  
"My goodness, it is true! Minerva's gone! Where is she? Can you now finally, finally tell me what is going on here?"  
  
The man's moustache literally shook with anger and worry, and Bennett hastily explained  
  
"Your daughter has ran away with, or has been abducted by, Albus Dumbledore, Sir!"  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"With your permission, Sir, your daughter and Dumbledore are now making the beast with two backs!" Tom exclaimed. Bennett nudged his former student once more.   
  
"For God's sake, Riddle, who do you think you are? Shakespeare?" he hissed, yet shut up as the man in the window yelled  
  
"WHAT? Do you mean- my beautiful young Minerva with that old- old adventurer? My god- that chap is going to get himself killed one day- irresponsible, entirely irresponsible, and he's at least three times her age! Probably abducted her, he has- he's always liked the poor child… oh hell, wait, I am coming!"  
  
But the two men had no intention of waiting. Waiting would probably cost them their jobs- and thus, two figures, one old and one young, disappeared in the night  
  
"Poor child?" the oldest muttered. "That man doesn't know his own daughter!" 


	2. Scene Two: Still Somewhere In Scotland

Scene Two: Still Somewhere In Scotland  
  
===========================================  
  
"Willard, my wand, where is my wand?" Marcus McGonagall yelled. "I'll put it right in his heart!"  
  
Willard, the red-haired butler, muttered, as he took out his Master's cloak.   
  
"Don't yell like that, Sir, it makes your Scottish brogue so painfully obvious…"  
  
"What?" exclaimed his master, now looking a strange sort of purple-red.   
  
"What did you say, Willard?"  
  
The other man looked at his master and politely smiled.  
  
"Nothing, Sir. Now are you leaving this evening?"  
  
"Of course!" McGonagall exclaimed, balling his fists. "Of course I am leaving- I am Apparating to the Ministry of Magic immediately, and then we will see whom they will listen to!"  
  
The other man curtly nodded and bowed.  
  
"Good, Sir. And - Sir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is there- perhaps something wrong with young Mistress Minerva?"  
  
Marcus coughed and nodded as he nervously started to swing his wand.  
  
"Yes, there is, Willard. There most certainly is. With that- that Dumbledore! But I will get her back! I will go to… and…"  
  
Silently, Willard the butler wondered how it would look when his master's head exploded. Not a very nice sight it'd be, he decided, so he quickly interrupted the other man.  
  
"So Miss Minerva will be home for dinner tonight?"  
  
Marcus snorted as he put on his cloak.   
  
"Damn sure she will! I will not have my daughter- abducted- by Albus Dumbledore! That man is an absolute villain! Goodbye, Willard!"  
  
With a soft pop, the dark-haired wizard Disapparated.   
  
And Apparated again in front of the Ministry of Magic. 


	3. Scene Three: The Ministry Of Magic

Scene Three: The Ministry of Magic  
  
=========================================  
  
And Apparated again in front of the Ministry of Magic. He balled his fist and heatedly banged on the door, until it magically opened and a monotone voice spoke, seemingly out of nowhere  
  
"Good morning, Sir. Can I help you?"  
  
Marcus snorted and, fumingly twisting his moustache, barked   
  
"I want to see Dippet. Immediately."  
  
"Alright, Sir. Please attach the badge to your robes."  
  
A yellowish badge with the words "Marcus McGonagall, Visitor" written on it, magically appeared.  
  
"Then follow the arrows."  
  
Marcus irately shook his head and impatiently strode forward. Arrows! As if he needed arrows to get to Armando Dippet!   
  
Finally, as he stood before the large, ebony door that indicated the Minister of Magic's office, he agitatedly knocked.   
  
"Come in." a calm, somewhat hoarse voice spoke, and Marcus obeyed.  
  
Two Hours Earlier…  
  
"Armando, old friend!" Albus Dumbledore smiled as the door opened  
  
"Albus," the other, way older man exclaimed and beckoned with a smile  
  
"Come in, my friend. And have a seat."  
  
Albus gratefully obeyed, and when he'd accepted a glass of whisky from his friend, the two men opposite each other and smiled.  
  
"It's been quite a while, hasn't it, Albus? How are things at Hogwarts going?"  
  
Albus smiled as he slowly sipped from his glass.  
  
"Very well, actually. Of course, it's quite a change since you are no longer there, but…"  
  
Armando Dippet grinned and raised his wrinkled hand.  
  
"Albus, no need to be over-polite now. You are a much better Headmaster than I've ever been, I have no doubt. And after all, it's been four years now, you must be getting quite comfortable in your new position."  
  
Albus chuckled and nodded.  
  
"Yes, I have to admit, I am very happy with my job. Hogwarts has always been my life, Armando, as you very well know."  
  
The other man nodded with a smile.  
  
"That indeed I do know. But, Albus, now have you already solved the problem of…"  
  
"As a matter of fact, I have!" Albus cheerfully interrupted his friend. "And she is simply amazing."  
  
"She?" A questioning look leapt into the Minister's eyes.  
  
"A woman, Albus?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded and shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Yes. Why not?   
  
Armando smiled and sighed.  
  
"Yes. In fact, yes, why not? It is just- it must be centuries ago since Hogwarts had a female Transfigurations teacher. It has always been considered a more… masculine branch of magic. Yet, why not? Who is she, by the way."  
  
Albus Dumbledore smiled broadly- a very happy smile indeed, and then muttered  
  
"Minerva McGonagall."  
  
"Minerva McGonagall?"  
  
Armando almost jumped up from his chair.  
  
"Minerva McGonagall? Albus, that's just wonderful, probably the most talented student Hogwarts has ever brought forth since you yourself graduated! But, Albus, she is so young! Twenty-one, I think, and…"  
  
"Twenty." Albus softly interrupted. "Her birthday is December 28th."  
  
Armando Dippet raised his left hand in a soothing gesture.  
  
"Alright, alright, twenty. But that is not my point, Albus. The point is that Minerva McGonagall is and will be a wonderful teacher, that I know for sure, but she's very young and what about Marcus…"  
  
Albus rolled his eyes.  
  
"Armando, you know as well as I do that Marcus has been no less than over-protective about Minerva since Mira passed away. It's quite ridiculous, and-"  
  
"Albus, Mira was everything to Marcus." Armando softly interrupted the Headmaster.  
  
"You know how much Marcus loved his Mirabelle, as well as you know how much Minerva resembles her mother. You know how much Marcus blamed himself for leaving his wife alone that night, when Grindelwald attacked. Albus, he couldn't help it- he was called away by a forged message. When he returned, Mira was dead. Killed by Avada Kedavra… Marcus was so very frightened he had lost his daughter as well, and he was so relieved when he found her, fast asleep in her bed. Yes, he has been over-protective ever since, but you have to try to understand it."  
  
Albus reluctantly shook his head.  
  
"Yes, Armando, I do understand it. It was a tragedy, of course, but Minerva is not Mirabelle. She deserves a life of her own. For heaven's sake, Marcus would never accept her marrying, it doesn't even matter whom her husband would be!"  
  
The Minister shook his head and in surprise raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Albus, no-one speaks about her marrying here. It's just about her job at Hogwarts. It will be hard enough for Marcus to accept that. No, when she marries, then, I fear…"  
  
He shivered, yet then he smiled.  
  
"But, my friend, as you said, we will see. Let us now once more stray off to more cheerful subjects and play a little game of chess."  
  
And as he quickly conjured the chess board and the pieced, Albus smiled.  
  
"Very well, my friend."   
  
But there was worry in his smile/  
  
Two Hours Later…  
  
Marcus McGonagall entered the room, now fuming even more.  
  
"Armando, Armando, I have a serious…" he began, as he walked towards the Minister.  
  
But as he saw Armando's chess opponent, he froze  
  
"Dumbledore!" 


	4. Scene Four: Explanations

Scene Four: Explanations  
  
============================  
  
"Dumbledore!"  
  
Armando Dippet needed all strength left in his aging body to hold the younger man back from actually attacking Albus. He managed, though, to his great surprise.  
  
"Marcus, calm down and explain before you do something rash. What's the matter?"  
  
He asked this, though he very well knew what was the matter. Or at least- he thought he did.  
  
"My daughter- my daughter…" the tall man stammered, casting dangerous glances at Albus.  
  
"My daughter- she's…"  
  
"Dead?" guessed the Minister calmly. He almost smiled. The next stage of anger would probably be smoke coming out of Marcus' nose and ears. And that, well, even the old, crooked, wrinkled ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts recalled that was quite a funny idea.  
  
But as Marcus McGonagall turned his glare now at Armando Dippet himself, the thought immediately lost quite a lot of its appeal.  
  
"No, she isn't- or, well, to me she is! She's abducted, stolen from me, corrupted! He must have used magic, that's for sure!"  
  
"And who, pray tell me, Sir Marcus, who has done all this? Who has beguiled your daughter of herself and her from you? Who?"  
  
He knew the answer.  
  
And indeed, Marcus didn't say a word, but one finger, shaking with deep-rooted anger, pointed very clearly at Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"He." he managed to utter, and turned to Albus  
  
"Dumbledore, you filthy- you filthy thief. Where have you hidden my daughter? What have you done to her?"  
  
Almost literally purple with rage, he looked at Armando again.  
  
"They say- I have been informed he- he had- plans with her. I have been informed he and my daughter… Well- you get my point. They say-"  
  
His voice, still trembling, was now barely more than a whisper/  
  
"They say he likes her- amorously."  
  
He'd muttered the last word as if it had been an Unforgivable Curse. To him, it apparently was one.  
  
A slight shock ran through Armando's veins. Amorously? Albus hadn't mentioned… He sharply inhaled.  
  
"Amorously?" he repeated, more addressing Albus than Marcus now. He slightly raised his eyebrows, looking sternly at his auburn-haired friend.  
  
"Amorously?"  
  
Albus sighed, knew it was true and lowered his eyes in acknowledgement.   
  
"It is true, Armando. But please allow me to explain."  
  
Armando Dippet nodded, sat down again and crossed his arms.  
  
"Yes, Albus, I indeed think an explanation is needed here."  
  
Albus sighed once more and sat down as well.  
  
"Good," he began, ignoring Marcus' still violent peers at him.  
  
"Marcus, here, and I were friends."  
  
"With a clear emphasis on "were"!" Marcus growled, yet a warning look from the Minister made him shut up.  
  
"I often visited him- I then told him many stories about my life. Mainly about the defeat of Grindelwald, some years ago now. But also about what I did before that. About my travels as a young man, and my encounters with magical creatures, some dangerous. About the times I only scarcely managed to escape. Minerva then always used to listen as well- all these things clearly interested her. After a while, she then had to go, of course, to study or to arrange the house-affairs. But she'd always return to listen and talk to me. On one of those occasions, I think, I fell in love with her. To my great surprise, Minerva fell in love with me too- for the dangers I had passed, for my story, but also- as I flatter myself- for the person I am. At least I hope so. And I fell in love with her because she was such a lovely listener, I guess. This is the only witchcraft I used. Now please, I ask you, Armando, call for the lady herself. Let her tell the story. And if she condemns me- then I will be punished as you wish. But let her speak first."  
  
His eyes sincerely pleaded, and Armando cleared his throat. His friend had lied to him, true, but now at least he was honest and, now he thought about it, Albus hadn't exactly *lied*. He had mentioned marriage after all, though Armando had been to deaf to understand what he meant. Plus: Albus loved the girl. Armando knew Albus Dumbledore very, very well, and he'd known him for a very long time, but never, never ever had he seen such a light shine from those twinkling, blue eyes.   
  
He loved the girl.   
  
"Alright." he then said, ignoring Marcus McGonagall's rather noisy remarks.   
  
"We'll use Floo Powder and get her here right away. Where is she, Albus."  
  
"Hogwarts." Albus answered, giving his friend a grateful smile.  
  
Marcus McGonagall stood up, though, and was now quite literally fuming.  
  
"Armando," he uttered. "Am I correct in assuming you are now actually on this villain's side? Arrest him! Lock him up! Hang him for heaven's sake, I don't care!"  
  
Armando shook his head and rested his hand on the upset father's shoulder. This was, in fact, a really brave deed, because Marcus very much looked as if he was going to bite. He didn't, though, and only wee moments later, a slender, female figure appeared out of the slightly smoking fireplace.  
  
Albus started to move towards her, but as Marcus took a step forward as well, he just cast a glance at the young woman.   
  
And Minerva stood there, looking taller than she was, her long, black hair curling loosely down her back. She answered his glance with a comforting nod.  
  
"My noble father," she then spoke, softly yet clearly, as she turned towards Marcus.  
  
"I know why I am summoned her and I know it was inevitable. My duty here is a divided one, because you have given me life itself and I will be forever grateful for that. And I am hitherto your daughter, but here…"   
  
She slowly stepped towards Albus, until she stood next to him and felt his thin fingers reassuringly squeeze hers.   
  
"Here is my husband, father." she said   
  
She noticed the sudden grey color of her father's face, as he exclaimed  
  
"Husband? Husband for heaven's sake? Husband?"  
  
Armando must admit he was equally surprised. Married? Married without him, the Minister of Magic, knowing of it?  
  
Minerva faintly smiled, yet put a hand on her father's arm to calm him.  
  
"Yes, father, we are married. Since this morning, in fact. We have been married by priest in a little church- only we and Rolanda Hooch and Aberforth Dumbledore, who were our witnesses. We are married before God, and what God hath joined together, let no man put asunder."  
  
Minerva slowly inhaled as she stroked Albus' hand. She hated it to be like this, but it really had been necessary. She had always been over-protected by her father, and this had been her only chance to- yes, to escape. Yes, she had felt it that way. Her father was a wonderful, wise, warm man, but, though her cage had been a golden one, it still had been a cage.   
  
And this had been her escape. Marriage. She loved Albus of course- from the moment she'd seen him there, in her dad's sitting room, she'd known it was him. And it would always be him. She had been taught by Albus, but only then, as she'd looked at him, sitting there, telling stories of his youth and his adventures, she'd really seen him.   
  
Now, she was his wife. It was perhaps cruel to confront her father with such a fait accompli, but it had really been the only way. Dad had always had much respect for religion, so this, a well-respected church marriage, and the fact that Albus had at least made a honest woman of her, would perhaps make it easier for him to accept.  
  
But for the moment present, Marcus was almost speechless.  
  
"Minerva- Minerva…"  
  
She sighed and sat down next to her father, carefully embracing him.  
  
"I am sorry, father, but I do love Albus, and he's given me a job at Hogwarts and all. I am sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me?"  
  
As Marcus spoke again, his voice was different- softer, older.  
  
"Minerva, there is nothing I would not forgive you. And I know I have been protective about you, but I have made a vow to your mother…"  
  
He sobbed- proud, noisy, great Marcus sobbed, and Minerva just nodded and hugged him.  
  
"I know, daddy, but I am not a child anymore. I am a woman, father, and I am married to Albus now."  
  
The man nodded and sighed.  
  
"I know, Minnie…"- oh, that nickname of her youth!  
  
"And I will accept it. I am still shocked, very surprised, and I am glad I have but one daughter, because a second one would probably injure me with a heart attack, but you have chosen him and I accept it. Albus-"  
  
The tall, auburn-haired man now suddenly looked very much like a schoolboy as he stepped towards his father-in-law.  
  
"Take care of her, lad. That's all I say. Take care of her."  
  
And as that night, Minerva McGonagall contentedly rested her head on her new husband's shoulder and as, later, her lips, timidly yet eagerly, found his, one thought nestled in her mind.  
  
Perfect.  
  
But there were much less perfect things to come… 


	5. Scene Five: Waking Up Honeymoonlessly

Scene Five: Waking Up Honeymoon-lessly  
  
Minerva McGonagall smiled sleepily as the first rays of sun slowly crept into the bedroom she now shared with her husband-since-a-day. Her head rested on his chest and she felt his arms rest protectively around her slender waist. Minerva smiled again as she enjoyed the peaceful silence of the early morning. Tomorrow- today, she'd have to teach for the very first time. She did look forward to it, though. It had been her dream for years- in fact, since she'd become an Animagus when she had been sixteen. Then, she had finally allowed herself to believe she was really talented for Transfigurations. And teaching your favorite subject- it could hardly go wrong, could it? Oh yes, it probably could, but Minerva wasn't in the mood to bother…  
  
As she felt her husband stir beneath her head, she turned her face to him and, with a smile, softly traced his features with her fingertips. He didn't react.  
  
Until, suddenly, Minerva shrieked as her husband quickly opened his eyes and started to tickle her until she screamed and laughed at the same time. He very well knew she couldn't *stand* it when he tickled her. Minerva desperately wriggled and fought, but Albus didn't rest until he held her in his arms and she couldn't move anymore. Then, he smiled and softly kissed her lips.  
  
"Good morning, my newly-wed wife." he muttered, chuckling with his very typical, low laugh.  
  
"Good morning, my newly-wed husband." Minerva responded and heard a strange sound come from her mouth. She bit her lip and smiled in surprise.  
  
"Was that a giggle?"  
  
Albus chuckled softly and stroked Minerva's hair as he cupped her face.  
  
"Yes, it was I'm afraid, my dear. I appear to already have a rather good influence on you…"  
  
Minerva shook her head and stuck out her tongue, then, to her utter surprise, giggled again as her husband slowly and semi-warningly shook his head.  
  
"Minerva, Minerva, such childish behavior and that from a newly-appointed teacher!"  
  
Minerva smiled and kissed her husband's brow.  
  
"Alright, my dear middle-aged husband, your childish and way too young wife will behave herself. Good?"  
  
"Good." Albus grinned, as he flung his arms round her waist again and pulled her closer. But then, suddenly serious, he, slowly, asked  
  
"My age doesn't bother you- does it? You don't- you don't regret you chose your old teacher, do you?"  
  
Minerva couldn't help it- she laughed as she heard the undertone of sudden uncertainty in his voice. He mockingly raised his eyebrows and smiled a rather faint smile.  
  
"It was, in fact a serious question, my dear…"  
  
The woman suddenly understood her husband really needed reassurance, so she turned around until she was on top of him, smiled and kissed him until there was no more doubt possible.  
  
As she, slightly flustered, pulled back again, she smiled and rather teasingly asked  
  
"Have I convinced you?"  
  
Albus grinned, pulling her closer once more.  
  
"You quite have, my dear. I love you, Minerva"  
  
"I love you, Albus."  
  
And so, the couple quite contently lay there in each others arms- not really needing much more words.   
  
Until the muggle alarm clock Albus kept on his bedside table suddenly let out a rather loud sound. The Headmaster himself moaned and hid his head in his pillow, for the very first time ever cursing his addiction to muggle artifacts, but his new wife immediately professionally straightened her back and sat up straight in bed. Albus sighed, rolled his eyes and pulled her back again.  
  
"Minerva…" he slightly begged in a very un-Headmaster-like way. "Now come on- we don't even have a honeymoon…"   
  
Minerva smiled as she turned around again and fell down on top of her husband.  
  
"We *kiss* will *kiss* have *kiss*…"  
  
Her sentence was interrupted, though, because the last kiss was prolonged a little more than she had intended it to as she felt Albus' arms creep round her again.  
  
"We will have our honeymoon in two days, Albus- only two days 'till Winter Break, remember?"   
  
Albus sighed again and pouted slightly.  
  
"Can't we just take two extra days of Winter Break."  
  
Minerva rolled her eyes, yet smiled as she felt his lips on hers again. Yet, she pulled back.  
  
"No, we cannot. Albus-"  
  
Her sentence was smothered by his lips once more, and though she enjoyed every single moment of it, Minerva knew she had to stop this or it would never stop. But did she want it to stop?  
  
Only with the greatest difficulty she pulled back, then tenderly stroked his cheek.  
  
"We will have our honeymoon in two days, my lover. And it will be worth the waiting."  
  
Albus faintly moaned as she pressed her lips on his, even deepened the kiss and then, with a swift gesture, pulled back the sheets until Albus was only covered by his thin, purple nightshirt.   
  
"Now that was a Judas kiss, my dear. You're cruel, Minerva."  
  
Minerva smiled, blew him a kiss and headed for the bathroom.  
  
"You needed to cool down a bit, I believe, my love. And by the way- I thought I had to concentrate on my teacher duties?"  
  
Albus chuckled yet groaned.  
  
"Yes, but not fanatically. By the way, Min…"  
  
Minerva turned around at his suddenly serious tone.  
  
"We have another new teacher this year."  
  
Albus sighed, then smiled  
  
"It is Tom Riddle."  
  
"Tom Riddle?!" 


	6. Scene Six: Suprises and Sweetness

Scene Six: Suprises and Sweetness  
  
========================================  
  
"Tom Riddle? Tom- Riddle? Albus, please don't tell me…"  
  
She fell down in a chair as she saw her husband calmly nod.  
  
"Yes, my dear, it is that Riddle. I am sorry, but…"  
  
"Why for God's sake did you hire him?"  
  
Albus noted the already well-known fierce Scottish gaze in her eyes, and sighed.  
  
"Minerva, please try to understand. I know you never liked him, but Hogwarts did need a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, and…"  
  
Minerva rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh surely," she mut tered through her clenched teeth.   
  
"Surely he knows everything about the Dark Arts." but Albus shook his head and semi-sternly interrupted her.  
  
"Now come on, Minerva, we've never had troubles with Riddle. I know you never liked him and he was not my favourite either, but really, he was highly intelligent and he'll make a great DADA teacher."  
  
Minerva groaned and hid her face in a pillow, falling down on the bed again.  
  
"I know, I know, I never said anything against his integrity… but Albus, he really was one arrogant prat! Well…" she added, as she noticed his determined expression.  
  
"I think I'll have to learn to live with it, then. But Albus…"  
  
When she looked up again, all irritation had vanished of her face- she really was one remarkable woman!- and all left was a little, impish smile, playing around her lips as she bowed over her husband.  
  
"Albus?"  
  
"Yes, my dear?"  
  
"If Tom Riddle wasn't your favourite… who was, then?"  
  
Albus broadly grinned as he read the twinkles in her usually so calm, stern eyes. As if she did not know.  
  
He pretended to be thinking and then, pulling her on top of him, he smiled again.  
  
"That must have been a certain Miss McGonagall, I suppose, my dear. Have you ever met her, perhaps?"  
  
Minerva smiled a now sweet smile and softly kissed his lips.  
  
"I recall I did, my lover".   
  
They both enrolled in some quite- enjoyable moments, but as Minerva felt herself shiver as he softly stroked her back, she knew she had to pull back again, or she would never found it within her to leave… With a playful "warning finger", she shook her head.   
  
"The day after tomorrow, my love. The day after tomorrow… And besides, some… activities can render one rather hungry… I need my breakfast."  
  
Albus theatrically sighed and folded his arms under his head, eyeing his wife with eyes that, despite all grins and sighs, showed exactly the tender devotion he felt for her.  
  
"My dear, you are lucky if I don't eat you at breakfast."  
  
"I am serious!" he protested as she laughed out loud. "You look delicious."  
  
Minerva raised her eyebrow in a semi-stern gesture and, in a vain attempt to look sincerely cross, put her hands on her hips in addition.   
  
"I hardly can look "delicious", Mr. Dumbledore, since my hair is one, big tangled mess and my skin is not exactly any better, I guess."  
  
But "Mr. Dumbledore" just smiled and reached out his hand to playfully pull one of her loosely dangling tresses.   
  
"You look ravishing, Mrs. Dumbledore, and you very, very well know it indeed!"  
  
Minerva could not help but blushed as she heard herself be address by the unfamiliar, yet wonderful title her marriage had earned her. Mrs. Dumbledore. And that mere "Mrs.", followed by the name of the man she adored with every fibre of her body, meant way more to her than a "Countess", "Duchess", or even "Queen" could ever do.   
  
But ever-professional, Minerva McGonagall oppressed her sudden urge to just give in and stay with him, and she turned towards the bathroom door. There, she just made one more gesture towards the man in the bed.  
  
She stuck out her tongue.  
  
And she left.  
  
And Albus Dumbledore realized for the thousandth time how very much he loved his wife. 


End file.
